


Depth Drifter

by ZiLCH_SjG



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, and dirk has to adopt him because he feels overly responsible for weird things, and one gets washed the fuck up on shore, basically some ppl are merpeople, merstuck au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 03:27:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20369911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZiLCH_SjG/pseuds/ZiLCH_SjG
Summary: Dirk adopts a merman.





	Depth Drifter

Kicking pieces of driftwood and washed up cuttlefish, Dirk kept his hands crumpled into his pockets. His sister Roxy had left the city's seaside to train for makeup artistry. He was proud of her but even so, alone at home all the time, it was lonely.

Blowing in his hair, a sharp wind picked up the edges of his jacket. Trailing along the edge of the water as it pulled him in sideways, it washed into his (ironic) crocs and filled the spaces between his toes. Sighing, he kicked them off and held them by the heel-band, crushing footprints into the sand. Lights from the city to the right poured into the depths of the damp terrain, reflecting gold into his amber eyes. He'd discarded his Pointy Anime Shades at home on the counter, taking a walk for the late of night. When a car of half a kilometre away sped past, he'd squint and his eyes would crease.

Roxy always used to drag him out here when they were younger, before he met Jake and began to neglect her. She'd get him in boardies and a rashie as she slipped into a bikini and fetched an oversized umbrella. Lying under it on top of her towel in a third lathering of sunscreen, her reflective sunglasses bored the sun into his face. He'd burn and go bright red and it required a lot of aloe vera gel in the bath. When Roxy burned, it didn't show—her deep skin was built on purplish, red undertones. Beach weekends with his sister were always fun, when they were thirteen and still cared about outsides.

After that, he eventually met Jake and fell in hopeless love. Roxy continued to try and get him out to the beach again, to build sandcastles and jump shallow waves like when they were little. But he kept planning dates to climb the rocks by the bay, fish in the lagoon and take long walks in the nearby forest. He remembered that once, they'd planned to visit that beach, when it rained and in the end, they never went. Jake never got the same experience of his home beach before they broke up. And Dirk guessed he blamed himself for it—he was pushy. Too pushy.

He reached a cluster of rocks at the edge, where the water splashed in softly in the warm night, licking at his feet. He drew them back in when something hard placed itself between his toes, refusing to wash out in the current. He peeled it out carefully, peering at the intricate design in its tough material. He pressed its concave curve between his thumb and forefinger but it didn't bend or crack. He pocketed it, because it was pretty. Glancing at the rippled water again, more of them appeared, clamping up at the edge of the rock. They seemed to be running in from his right, on the other side of the beach. That side was more pebbly than sandy and smaller, shittier, with black ground and seaweed everywhere. Really not the best place for a walk, at night or day. Most people didn’t go there. But tonight, it was different. Half their body in the shifting tide, someone was lying there.

It wasn’t even his problem. Wasn’t his problem that some kid went swimming at night, got caught in the current and was washed up unconscious. Not his problem that they made a stupid decision and faced the consequences. But even so, Dirk panicked, grabbed his shitty, slippery rubber excuses for shoes, scrambled to his feet and cut his toes as he clambered over the sharp rocks.

The wet pebbles and crunch of forming sand stung in his cuts and god, this was all for naught and he wouldn’t get anything out of helping this person, but god dammit he was going to do it! He remembered almost nothing of first aid or CPR but years of boring workshops in high school were still foggy in his mind.

But maybe it wasn’t necessary. This person had gills.

He dropped everything and knelt down. “H,” he mumbled, his legs heavy beneath his heaving body, “hello? Can you hear me?” They may have had gills but god dammit they had ears. Dirk clapped and called to them again. There was no response and figured that if he wanted to continue and go through with CPR, getting them out of the water was the first thing to do. But wait, no, they--they had gills! Hang on, no they didn’t. Was he dreaming? Did he make them up? It was dark. He couldn’t see.  
Grabbing that person under the arms and pulling them upwards, he felt down the side he’d glanced at before and found the feeling of ribs under wet skin. But no gills. Yeah, he. He was being stupid. People don’t have gills.

But they sure as hell don’t have fishtails either.

Dirk yelped in surprise and dropped him. The boy’s head wacked against the course ground and for a moment, they blinked, groaned and almost began to move but not enough to be classified as ‘awake’. Shivering from the cold water splashing at his stinging wounds, Dirk swallowed, wiped his nose on his sleeve and picked him up again. Pulling out the unconscious person from the edge of the water, he left him in drier sands. He considered pinching himself but the stinging in his feet and knees assured him he was awake. Yeah, nope, that. That was a fishtail. A scaly, scaly, bright red, falling-apart fishtail. In the boy’s hips, were circles of skin, little indents where scales had definitely been before. The skin was pink and looked sore, like wounds that were just now healing over. Dirk removed the hard, flat, red thing from his pocket. Yeah. This was from him, for sure.

The scales kept crumbling off. And the fin of the tail, which was once flat and transparent, was now thicker, bonier, growing appendages that would surely resemble toes in a few minutes. His body seemed to be turning from fish to human from the head down and soon enough, there would be a naked kid lying in front of him on a 100m, shitty excuse for a dirty, slimy, pebbly beach. But so far, it was only his top half that was human. “That means you have lungs, now, right?” Dirk heaved as he curled his fingers together, “Or did you always have lungs and you’re lying to me?”

And oh god, he didn't remember anything about CPR but numbers! 30 pushes, 2 breaths, right? He wasn't stupid, that was it, right? He shook the thoughts of accidentally killing someone via trying to save their life from his head and started. It felt like hours that he was there, pushing down on the diaphragm of a notevenhuman-minor’s chest and counting, singing to himself, before pinching his nose and breathing into his mouth. Which was slimy with more than just seawater. Gross.

No time to find out! Keep pushing. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30...One, two…harhgn ghh...One, two...1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26--

Spluttering, coughing, gasping and vomiting and startling Dirk as he was sent back and landing heavily on his backside, the boy sprang to life. He was leaning over his own limp lap, which was slowly forming legs and choking up all sorts of slimy things that Dirk would rather have not seen but here he was.

When the boy opened his eyes, they only widened and he flinched, as if trying to get away. Dirk panicked at his sudden movement and grimaced as he coughed up seawater. “Hey--” he started, beginning to get up and make his way back over to him but the boy suddenly tensed again and scrambled away from him. Dirk pulled back, slightly hurt and wondering if he was seriously that ugly but rethinking things and figuring this person probably didn’t even speak English. He’d probably never seen a human.  
What felt like a good few years but was only a few seconds passed, until the boy calmed down and curled his legs in. He wheezed out, sand falling from his wet hair and seawater spilling into his eyes. “Please…” he breathed out against the crashing of waves, “don’t tell anyone…” before his elbows buckled in underneath his weight and he was out cold again. 

“Hell yeah!” cheered no one, because this was not good.

Don’t tell anyone? Don’t tell anyone? This guy needed, like! An ambulance or some shit! He was a kid, for heaven’s sake, he couldn’t have been any older than eighteen! He was out cold on the beach at night and was going to die of hypothermia. And what, he wants him to keep it secret? What kind of backwards bullshit was that?  
But if that was his wish. Then that was Dirk’s command. He didn’t know this guy’s situation. Whatever situation a fish-person could even get themselves into, anyway. But for now, he had no place to judge. Only a place to offer help where necessary. Which was everywhere because again, this was not good.

Lucky for Dirk, this kid was blonde. A little blonde bitch, like him, and if he carried him home, princess-style, like the prince at the end of the really shitty and unfortunate fairy tale, people who saw him would be like ‘oh he’s got his brother haha’. Aside from the fact that one of them was wet and sandy and salty and very obviously naked and unconscious and the other was the complete opposite. But that was fine. It had been 11:30ish when Dirk last left the house. He’d been walking along the beach for at least thirty minutes beforehand, so it must have been close to midnight. Very few people, if any, were out and about. It was unlikely that anyone would see this ridiculously inexplicable situation.

Dirk wrestled off his jacket. It was old, wearing thin, and the edges soggy and salty and cold but it was all he had. All he was willing to sacrifice, at least. So, the really shitty and unfortunate fairy tale it was. He fumblingly sat the kid up, wrapped him in his jacket and got his arms under him. It took a good few seconds of groaning, figuring out how to stand and not fall over and kill the both of them, almost throwing him so he was carrying him correctly and he was off on his way.

It was climbing over the rocks that sucked the most. He’d put on his crocs again ‘cause where the fuck else was he gonna put them when his hands were full of Naked Slimy Child but he wasn’t sure this particular choice of footwear was gonna help. It slid and rubbed against the bleeding blisters he’d already gained and he wasn’t too sure the friction on the sole still...existed. It had most likely rubbed away in some parts. The rocks were wet and the tide was in and he was carrying extra weight and he was unbalanced but he was just gonna have to be fucking careful huh. So careful he was. It may have taken twenty or so minutes but he got out, with only a half-twisted ankle, his right knee begging him to stop walking with seers of pain through each step and sweating in heat despite the cold water and air. Dirk got out of the rocks and was back on sand again. Which he found, was much more difficult to walk in when carrying double your own weight.

Soon enough, he was crossing the road under the warm glow of street lamps, passing quiet houses and tensing when he heard cars in the next street over. He kept walking until he reached the front door. He’d left it unlocked with the lights off, because it was late and he hadn’t been planning to be out for longer than an hour. And at this point, he was glad he’d left it unlocked because imagine trying to get the key and open it like this.

Bending to turn the handle, it clacked open and he pushed into the house with his back, careful not to bump the boy’s head on the doorframe. Inside, 

Dirk set him down in his own bed and pulled the covers over him. When he was running a bath for him down the hall in the bathroom, his mind began to slow down. He began to actually think about what had happened. And realised that he’d found a fucking merman. And had given it CPR as it turned human. And brought it home.

How did he get himself into this, again?


End file.
